


Feel The Shake (make me, take me, break me)

by nebulein



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Breathplay, Comeplay, Deep Throating, Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut with some feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulein/pseuds/nebulein
Summary: It should be illegal, the way Teeks just sits back on his haunches, looking up at Nolan. Daring him. And they both know Nolan is weak for Teeks, it’s how this whole fucking mess started in the first place.He can’t help it. There’s something in TK that makes Nolan want to shut him up, with his dick, preferably. So he fists a hand in TK’s hair, forcing his head back, stepping closer, enough that TK has to look through his lashes to still meet Nolan’s eyes, and starts stripping his cock with the other.
Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 13
Kudos: 118





	Feel The Shake (make me, take me, break me)

**Author's Note:**

> This all got inspired by the second gif in [this gifset](https://pattyteeks.tumblr.com/post/641672646824706048/still-thinking-about-this-twitter-post-pointing). I have no other excuse.
> 
> Thanks to Steph for the speedy beta!

"Take a breath," Nolan says, swiping a thumb across TK's cheekbone. He can't help it, the need to touch, to hold. Needs it like he needs TK on his knees, being good for him, so good.

TK takes a breath, shuddery, eyelashes fluttering. They haven't done this too much, are still training. So Nolan waits patiently, while TK takes a careful breath, then another one. Steadying himself. Waits, even if it’s torture, the way TK’s breath ghosts across his dick, making Nolan’s balls draw up tight in anticipation.

Finally Teeks looks up at him, a glance that manages somehow to be both cocky and coy, and Nolan doesn’t wait any longer. Pushes his hips forward, until his dick bumps against TK’s lips, that mouth. TK opens up for him without prompting, eager, too eager, enough that Nolan has to steady him with a firm grip in his hair.

“Slow and steady,” Nolan instructs, and TK makes a sound but settles down, sucks on the head of Nolan’s cock, tongue swirling around, cheeks hollowing. “Fuck, just like that.”

TK’s easy for praise, always responds so beautifully to it. It’s not something that comes naturally to Nolan, he has to work for it, remind himself, but it’s worth it for the way TK goes pliant and still, no more nervous fidgeting or snarky remarks, how when he’s really down he becomes a canvas for Nolan to paint all of his desires onto. One day Nolan will have to see just how far he can take Teeks like that, how far under he’ll go just from Nolan’s words alone.

For now, he’ll settle for pushing his dick a little further into TK’s mouth, stretching out those lips, shiny with saliva. They work for it, together, TK sinking down on Nolan’s dick in little increments, Nolan offering a word of praise, a reminder to breathe, a steadying hand at the back of TK’s neck. It’s torture, and bliss.

“One last breath,” Nolan says, and “tap my thigh if you need up.” Just like every other time they’ve done this before. TK hums, and then he’s sinking down, down, down, until Nolan’s pushing into that tight throat of his, and he can feel TK swallow around him, throat convulsing, his nose buried in the coarse hair around Nolan’s cock.

He’s in.

He’s in, for the first time, buried to the hilt in TK’s mouth, as far as he can go, and fuck, _fuck_.

It’s the first time TK hasn’t tapped out, has allowed Nolan to push in further even as he’s struggling, making choked noises, air supply cut off by Nolan’s dick in his mouth, holy fuck.

“So good, baby, fuck, so good.”

It’s three seconds, tops, before TK’s fist hits Nolan’s thigh, and Nolan’s drawing back, out, letting TK suck in a raspy breath. He coughs, and there are tears at the edge of his eyes. Nolan wipes them away. “You okay?”

“Fuck, no.” TK’s voice is shot, like gravel, and Nolan’s dick twitches at that.

Shit. “You—”

“I can do better,” TK says, wiping his mouth. The look he pins Nolan with is fierce, determined, like he’s about to take the ice on a shift that can only end in a penalty.

“You sure?” Nolan knows the second he says it that it’s the wrong thing to say, but just… 

“Fuck you,” TK spits, and doesn’t wait for Nolan’s reply.

It’s not any better the second time. If anything, it wrecks Nolan more, because TK is sucking him down like his life depends on it, like Nolan _challenged him to_ , which is totally not what happened but also something he really should’ve expected, and yet. He can’t help it. The sounds they both make as Nolan’s dick hits TK’s throat, the tightness, the way TK’s hands fist in Nolan’s jeans, like he can hold himself closer.

Four seconds, tops.

Nolan didn’t dare put his hands on TK’s head this time, so TK is free to draw off himself, coughing and sputtering. His eyes are red, his whole face is red. “Again.”

Nolan’s never loved him more.

It’s rough. Graceless. TK chokes himself on Nolan’s dick and Nolan shouldn’t fucking like it, should tell him to stop maybe, take a break. He can’t. Won’t. Can’t help it. No matter how wrong, it turns him on. Like… Seeing TK work at this, at taking Nolan down, this fierce determination to fucking deep throat Nolan the way no one ever managed before. It’s hot. So fucking hot.

“Fuck, Teeks, you gotta stop or I’ll—”

TK draws off again, looks up at Nolan. “Come on my face.”

Nolan bites his lips, swallows down the ‘you sure?’ that’s threatening to spill past his lips. Studies TK for a second. Imagines coming all over that face, sweaty and red, hair mussed, painting it with white streaks of come. “Yeah okay.”

It should be illegal, the way Teeks just sits back on his haunches, looking up at Nolan. Daring him. And they both know Nolan is weak for Teeks, it’s how this whole fucking mess started in the first place.

He can’t help it. There’s something in TK that makes Nolan want to shut him up, with his dick, preferably. So he fists a hand in TK’s hair, forcing his head back, stepping closer, enough that TK has to look through his lashes to still meet Nolan’s eyes, and starts stripping his cock with the other. Eyes roaming over TK’s face. His open mouth. Thinks back to the way TK had been shoving himself on Nolan’s dick earlier. The not quite dried tear tracks. Hair sticking up in places where Nolan grabbed fistfuls of it earlier.

TK on his knees for Nolan.

TK choking himself on Nolan’s dick.

TK demanding to be marked up by Nolan.

It surprises Nolan, the fierce wave of want, of possessiveness. 

_Mine. Mine. Gonna make you mine._

His TK.

He comes with a groan, the first spurt hitting TK across the bridge of his nose, and Nolan makes sure to spread it around. In his hair. His open mouth. Across his cheek. Sticks his dribbling dick into TK’s mouth and tells him to “suck.”

And TK does. Licks Nolan clean, with soft, tiny kitten licks, and when his dick gets too sensitive Nolan swipes some up from TK’s face and feeds that to him, too.

Because TK does what Nolan tells him to.

Sometimes, at least.

And in return, Nolan takes care of him.

“Up,” he says, pulling at TK until he makes it to his feet, a bit wobbly after being on his knees for so long. Points to the bed. “Sit.”

He finds a half-empty bottle of water and sticks it in TK’s hands. “Drink.”

Busies himself with skinning out of his jeans and t-shirt while TK hydrates. Tells him “no” when he catches TK scratching at his nose, but otherwise leaves him to it. TK likes a bit of space afterwards, a moment to settle back in his own body. Nolan doesn’t, but he can deal. He’ll get his soon enough.

Later, he’ll slide into bed behind TK and draw him close. He’ll hold TK still as he squirms while Nolan kisses and licks the rest of his come off TK’s face, and then kiss him long and deep enough until they both taste like themselves again. Until TK starts wriggling again and cursing Nolan out for leaving him hanging. He always gets mouthy coming back up, and Nolan usually likes to wait for that before giving in. Getting TK naked and then maybe, if Nolan’s feeling generous, he’ll jerk him off, slow and tight, feel TK writhing against him the whole time. Or maybe they’ll break out the lube and Nolan gets to slide inside TK a second time tonight, bury himself to the hilt in TK’s ass the way he was in TK’s mouth, until TK’s cursing and swatting at Nolan to “fuck, Nolan, fucking fuck me already”, digging his bony heels into Nolan’s ass.

TK holds out the water bottle, almost empty. His eyes look clear again, but he’s still quiet.

Time to test the waters. “Ready to cuddle?”

It’s easy enough to dodge the bottle, even though TK has scarily good aim. Nolan laughs, first at TK’s outraged face and then the look of ‘oh shit’ when he realizes he chucked that thing right at Nolan’s _head_. He still gets weird about that, sometimes, even though Nolan’s been playing again and he’s just fine, he’s not gonna break from a stupid wrestling match or an empty plastic bottle. “Shit, I—”

“You missed.”

TK snaps his mouth shut. Narrows his eyes. “You flinched.” Holds out his hand. “Give me that bottle again and I won’t miss a second time.”

“Nah,” Nolan decides, stepping close. Taking TK’s outstretched hand and tangling their fingers together. He’s naked, and soft again. TK’s still fully dressed, and still hard, chubbed dick outlined against the fabric of his jeans. Time to do something about that. “I don’t believe in second chances.”

“What’s this, then?” TK asks, even as he’s pulling Nolan onto the bed with him, falling back against the mattress and letting himself be caged in by Nolan. Hands coming up to squeeze Nolan’s ass.

Nolan hums, burying his face in TK’s neck, sucking hard enough on the skin there to leave a nice red mark. TK twitches, hands tightening on Nolan’s ass. “This is overtime.”

TK huffs a laugh. Hooks a leg over Nolan’s back and presses closer, close enough that Nolan can feel TK’s dick. “You gonna take a shot?”

And there’s really only one answer to that.

“You better be ready to sing,” Nolan props himself up on one arm, giving himself enough room to slide the other into TK’s pants, hand closing around the hard length of him, “feel the shake, baby.”


End file.
